Gravity
by BreakingSuperLock
Summary: Gravity, stay the hell away from me. Oh, gravity has taken better men than me. Just keep me where the light is. Implied Hameron, Hilson friendship, a little angst. Oh, and a baby.


**Long time no see, House fandom. I used to write under the pennames House3051 and SVUProductions. I've had this new account for a while and I plan on keeping this penname.**

 **I haven't written for House in ages, but I recently started re-watching. I felt like writing some Hameron. My next story will be Huddy, because I have a problem.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own House. I also don't own Gravity by John Mayer, for which this fic is named. I chose it for the title after watching Cane and Able.**

 **Warnings: Mentioned character death, some mild language.**

He hated the NICU.

Babies crying, parents worrying, nurses meddling in other people's business when they should just mind their own damn business.

Every time one of them gave him a questioning stare, he returned it with a sinister glare or a creepy wink. Of all the places for Greg House to be in the hospital, the NICU was one of the least likely.

But here he sat in an uncomfortable chair, absently twisting his cane in his knuckles as he stared at the baby in front of him. She was five months old, older than the other babies in the NICU. Her only ailment was the little scratch on her cheek from a glass shard.

House tried to look anywhere, at anything but the name tag on the baby's wrist. He swore to himself it had to be wrong.

Olivia Cameron House.

Why did she give the kid his last name, anyway? Today was the first day he even knew the kid existed. She looked just like her mother. House tried not to believe it, kept telling himself it was Chase's kid, not his. If it was, he could just hand the kid to her dad and go on with his life.

But the paternity test didn't lie. Not three times in a row. She was his. What was House supposed to do with her?

He was in his fifties, too damn old to take care of a baby. A kid deserved more than a fifty-something crippled asshole. It would be different if he would change- if he wanted to change.

If this kid thought he was about to bend over backwards and become the man-form of her mother, she was mistaken.

Her mother. Her mother who laid down the hall, covered by a blue sheet in the morgue. Dead on arrival. House cringed.

He was such an idiot. He stood back for years, popping Vicodin and being content with being miserable as he watched her leave his department, marry Chase, leave Chase, and leave Princeton.

He barely remembered the one-night stand they had the one time she came back. He had been drunk, with God knows how much alcohol and Vicodin pumping through his veins. Honestly, House couldn't blame her for never telling him he had a kid. He would be a shitty boyfriend and a shitty dad.

Cameron and the kid deserved better. A hell of a lot better. But like the idiot he was, he kept his mouth shut and let her leave again after they slept together. Maybe if he'd known she would be hit by a drunk driver sixteen months later, it would have been different.

Why him? Cameron had all but drooled over him for years. He turned her down each time, telling her he was too old for her, belittling her feelings. She knew he was a miserable ass who would never really change, but that seemed to be what she adored.

Either she liked it or became desensitized to it. He wasn't entirely sure. But it didn't matter now. What mattered was figuring out what to do with a kid.

He could try to dump her on Wilson, but Wilson would be too busy caring and figuring things out. So no.

"Damn it, kid," he growled. "You're really messing things up here." He rubbed his temples.

In the past six hours, he has alternated between sitting in the NICU and seeing her mother in the morgue.

This time there was no puzzle. As selfish as he was, that made this even more frustrating. There was nothing in it for him other than crappy diapers, bottles, and more crappy diapers.

"Sorry, Wilson. If you're wanting a penny for my thoughts, go rob the cancer kids' wishing well."

Wilson was unfazed. "How did you know I was here?"

"My idiot radar picked up your caring as soon as you got in the elevator. I think you blew it off the charts."

"Right." Wilson stood next to his best friend. "The paternity test? You're sure she's yours, not Chase's?"

"Would I be here if she belonged to the croc hunter?"

"I guess not." Wilson was quiet for a while. "What are you gonna do?"

"Cry, poop my pants, cry some more... wait, that's her."

"Oh, no. Don't deflect," Wilson chided firmly. "You're talking about this. House, this is a major-"

"I'll finish. House, this is a major change. House, you can't eat Vicodin for breakfast anymore. House, you can't have hookers over every night. House, you can't-"

"I get it," Wilson interrupted. "But seriously. How are you holding up? Between finding out you're a dad and Cameron-"

"I'm fine. Now if you're done caring, I think I hear the cancer kids summoning their beloved Doctor Jimmy."

"I'm off duty right now."

"You're putting me and my spawn over the cancer kids? Oh, Jimmy, I knew you always swooned over me."

"Exactly." Wilson studied the sleeping infant. "She's beautiful. She-"

"Wants it to be quiet in here."

Sighing, Wilson fell silent. It was useless to try to pull feelings out of House. He squeezed his friend's shoulder before he left the room.

"That was your Uncle Jimmy. He's a tall drink of annoying and sunshine."

So was her mom, for that matter. But somehow it was different when she did it, no matter how much he terrorized her for it.

Olivia suddenly stretched, letting out a noise.

Shit. She was waking up. What if she wanted to be fed or worse, changed? Or amused? What was he supposed to do then? He'd be damned if she expected him to coo at her and make silly faces.

What did she eat? Surely Cameron would have done research out the wazoo and opted to breastfeed. He didn't have that option, so he would have to make a nurse feed her some formula.

To his annoyance and frustration, she did awake and began whimpering.

"Nur-" He paused when she began staring at him. "Kid, that's creepy," he groaned. He tried not to meet her eyes. They were his eyes.

No. He wasn't doing this. He wasn't going to let himself love this kid. He couldn't give her a life.

But he found himself lifting her out of the isolette. She didn't smell and her diaper was dry, so that was fine. "Someone bring me a bottle."

"Yes, Dr. House."

When the nurse brought him the bottle, he held it for a moment before finally poking the nipple to Olivia's lips. She stared up at him.

"What, are you offended because it's not a boob? Drink." He kept poking at her mouth until she finally parted her lips and accepted the bottle. "God, this is annoying."

Olivia began to suck, slowly at first, then faster. When the bottle was finished, she pulled away.

He knew enough about babies to know they had to be burped. But that knowledge came with being a doctor. Not a dad. Luckily, the NICU was now devoid of anyone other than babies. He found a washcloth and draped it over his shoulder. He scowled as he awkwardly situated Olivia against his shoulder and patted her back.

After a minute, Olivia let out a little burp.

"Gross, kid. Have some class. We're in public."

"I really don't think she cares."

House startled, almost dropping Olivia. "Damn it, Wilson, do you have to be under my ass all the time? What are you, my gay guardian angel?"

"Just thought I'd check on you again. It's late."

"Oh, so that's where the sunlight went? Golly gee, Jimmy boy, I feel _so_ educated right now. Why didn't you become a teacher?"

"I sense your sarcasm. You just looked… almost human burping her. Aside from the self-loathing scowl and the dark look in your eyes."

"It's called being complex."

"Whatever you call it. You know you can do this, right?"

"Oh, so now you're a cheerleader? Sorry, but you don't have the boobs or the ass. Next audition?" House sneered, returning Olivia to her isolette before Wilson started melting or whatever. "Kid, stay."

"She has a name, you know?"

"I know." House grabbed his cane and stood up. "Demon spawn, little hellion, ankle-biter, broken condom, birthday sex-"

Wilson made a disgusted face. "You… did _not_ need to volunteer that information."

"Whatever." House finally stepped away from the isolette and limped out of the NICU. "I have a pizza to pick up, anyway. I'll give your credit card back tomorrow."

"My cred-" Wilson checked his wallet. "Damn it, House!"

 **To be continued? Maybe! Review and let me know! Also, did anybody catch my reference to another show? Free cupcakes for the lucky guesser! Review!**


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